all 
Indian to a mountaineer, as they were riding across the 
Cascade Mountains, about seventeen years ago. ‘‘I do,” 
was the reply. ‘Do you see that grove to the right?” the 
Indian then said. “‘ Yes,” said the white man. ‘ Well,’ 
said the Indian, ‘‘a long time ago there was a flood, and all 
the country was overflowed. There was an old man and his 
family on a boat or raft, and he floated about, and the wind 
blew him to that mountain, where he touched bottom. He 
stayed there some time, and then sent a crow to hunt for 
land, but it came back without finding any. After some time 
he sent the crow again, and this time it brought a leaf from 
that grove, and the old man was glad, for he knew that the 
water was going away.” 
The Yakima Indians also have their traditions, but, at this 
time, writes Rev. J. H. Wilbur, their agent and missionary, 
it is impossible to tell what was their original tradition, and 
what has been mixed with it from the early teachings of mis- 
sionaries who were with them thirty or forty years ago. 
When the earliest missionaries came among the Spo- 
kanes, Nez Percés, and Cayuses, who, with the Yakimas, live 
in the eastern part of the Territory, they found that those 
Indians had their tradition of a flood, and that one man and 
wife were saved on a raft. Hach of those three tribes also, 
together with the Flathead tribes, has its separate Ararat 
in connexion with this event. 
The Makah Indians, who live at Neah Bay, the north-west 
corner of the Territory, next to the Pacific Ocean, also the 
Chemakums and Kwilleyutes, whose original residence was 
near the same region, speak of a very high tide. According 
to their tradition: ‘‘ A long time ago, but not at a very remote 
period, the waters of the Pacific flowed through what is now 
the swamp and prairie between Waatch Village and Neah Bay, 
making an island of Cape Flattery. The water suddenly 
receded, leaving Neah Bay perfectly dry. It was four days 
reaching its lowest ebb, and then rose again, without any 
waves or breakers, till it had submerged the Cape, and in fact 
the whole country except the tops of the mountains at Clyo- 
quot. ‘The water on its rise became very warm, and as it 
came up to the houses those who had canoes put their | 
effects in them, and floated off with the current, which set 
very strongly to the north. Some drifted one way, some 
~ another, and when the waters assumed their accustomed level a 
portion of the tribe found themselves beyond Nootka, where 
their descendants now reside, and are known by the same 
name as the Makahs in Classet, or Kwenaitchechat. Many 
canoes came down in the trees and were destroyed, and 
